Hidden Talents
by Soldier78
Summary: Meet Dylan Neutron. Shy but abrasive, humble but aggressive, she is everything the opposite of, not just her father, but also her mother. While Dylan tries to fix faulty relationships within her family and pass science, she tries to find her own calling. Will Dylan find her own voice? Or will she be condemned to conform to the expectations set for her? Review!
1. Dylan the Troublemaker

**Okay, so, um…here's a story based upon the Jimmy Neutron universe, I recently just became a major fan and had this idea come to me while I was on one of my trips. This is kind of a family-oriented story. So yeah, I'm a JC fan like a lot of the other people . For some reason I like love-hate relationships. So I'm not gonna give so much away but please enjoy! I love feedback by the way, please review and tell me what you think. And check out my other stories in my profile. This is my first JN fanfic so I'm just playing around with the characters a little bit, figuring out the personalities and such. Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer, I own nothing. **

**~Soldier78~**

Hidden Talent

Ch.1: Dylan the Troublemaker

Dylan Neutron was not like any other nine year olds. She blamed her parents for her restless behavior. Her father was renown super genius with one of the highest IQ, James Neutron and her mother was black belt in karate/other martial arts and skilled in many other creative/athletic abilities, Cynthia (rather Cindy) Neutron. It could explain a few things Dylan had inherited. She was stubborn, abrasive, aggressive…it came to a surprise that she wasn't so much arrogant. In fact, she was completely the opposite. Shy, humble and reserved, Dylan had her own little world except when someone crossed that line that could flip to her alter ego in just a minute.

"Dare you to say that again!" barked the strong nine years old, pinning a helpless male against the concrete.

"Help! Help!" The boy cried. Dylan growled but yelped in surprise when a hand grabbed her by the collar of her shirt, pulling her away from the downed boy.

"What is the meaning of this?"

Dylan hung in the air by the grasp from the gym teacher, Coach Ryan.

"Hey, lemme go!" Dylan ordered, squirming in the grasp.

"Quiet!" barked the gym teacher. Dylan folded her arms, dropping her shoulders. She was finally set back on the ground. "You're going to the Principal's office!"

"What? He started it!" Dylan blamed, pointing to the boy. Her fourth grade teacher was out there, brushing the dirt off of the poor lad.

"I would like to know hoooow this started!" requested Mrs. Fowl, local chicken impersonator.

"He started it!" Dylan repeated with jabbing index finger. "He called my dreams silly because I was a girl."

"Because it's true!"

Dylan rolled up the sleeve of her sweatshirt in the most intimidating way, approaching the boy with daggered eyes.

"Why I oughta-"

"Stooop!" Mrs. Foul cried. Coach Ryan's hand curled around her collar again. "Mr. Ryan, I will talk to Davis while you take Dylan to the Principal's office."

"C'mon you Troublemaking Piece of Scum!"

Dylan heard the door open and she gave a short look over her shoulder, her eyes were filled with the same looks dogs give when they feel guilty.

"Sorry I'm late Mr. Willoughby."

"Don't worry about it Cindy, just please take a seat."

Dylan visibly shrunk in her seat when her mother flashed her daughter a disappointed glare in her direction. Dylan looked away from the daggered eyes.

"Thank you for coming, Mrs. Vort-excuse me, Mrs. Neutron. I still have to get used to that." The Principal of many years chuckled. He cleared his throat. His beady eyes turned from happy going to stern in minutes. Dylan wondered how long it would take for him to keep up the act of professional administrator. "We wanted to have a one-on-one discussion about your daughter. As you should know, this is the fifth time she's been sent to me this year for her…aggressive behavior."

The Neutron matriarch sighed.

"What happened this time?"

"According to Coach Ryan, our playground officer, she physically attacked a fellow classmate after he teased her." Willoughby informed. His chubby fingers intertwined with each other, set on the desk while he spoke to Dylan's mother.

"He insulted me!" Dylan interrupted.

"Be quiet, Dylan." Her mother scolded. Dylan frowned and knitted her brows together, folding her arms over her chest.

"I'm afraid if Dylan doesn't shape up, she might have to be removed from our school."

"Expelled?"

"Disciplinary action must be taken for Dylan's…mishaps."

"I assure you Mr. Willoughby," Cindy began. She glared at her daughter. "I will make sure she won't do it again."

The car ride home was quiet. Dylan could sense the tension between them from her place in the front seat. She noticed her mother's piercing green stare on the road, still filled with that same look of disappointment. Dylan's chin rested on her hand that was propped against the open window.

"Mom, I'm sorry….again." Dylan apologized, weakly.

"Don't think that will get you out of punishment Dylan Curie Neutron." Her mother scolded for the second time that day. "When your father gets home, we will discuss your punishment which will be harsh for your abrasive behavior."

"You're acting as if the entire thing was my fault!" Dylan blurted. She looked her mother in the eye with the similar color eyes she inherited from her father, only lighter.

"Because it was."

"That's not fair, he's the one who started it!" Dylan refuted.

"Yes, but did he physically hit you?"

"Well…no but-"

"No more buts, once we're home, you're going up to your room until we know what to do with you. Understood?"

Dylan sighed.

"Fine."

Dylan's eyes lost their dangerous gleam and turned into despair as she stared at the zooming by road. Her eyes fell to the darkening clouds above, Retroville would finally get a dose of rain, maybe a thunderstorm if Dylan was lucky, there was something cool about electricity discharging in the sky.

As exactly as her mother told her to do, Dylan obeyed her by leaving for her room. She sat on her rolling chair, alone again. Across her desk were scattered papers of sketches and scratch work from homework. One would think the daughter of James Isaac Neutron, the local NASA accomplice, would be the next generation of super genius, coming up with several ideas and designing her future lab but the reality was the fact that Dylan knew jack about science and math. It made her bored and always wanting to take a nap. When her father boasted about his latest project at the dinner table, Dylan pretended to be interested but had her mind elsewhere. Maybe on something that would make her parents proud, Dylan could only wish.

She let out a cry of anguish and swiped at the papers, the parchment flew into the air and some fell off the desk. She stormed over to her bed and laid down, staring up at her ceiling that was dotted with the solar system. There was the Milky Way, the several galaxies her father could name but she couldn't. All she could name was the big, fat planet of Jupiter, medium planet of Earth and the Sun.

There was a knock on her door.

"You in there, Squirt?"

Dylan sat up. Only her father would call her Squirt.

"Yeah, come in, Dad." Dylan reported.

Her door opened and her Dad entered the room, shutting it behind him and holding something behind his back. Dylan was too depressed to ask him questions about it. Jimmy walked over to the bed, setting aside the object and sat next to his daughter.

"Your mother informs me that you had another fight at school." Jimmy announced. Dylan shrugged.

"Yeah, I guess." She solemnly agreed.

"What was it this time? Cooties? Bullying?"

"Davis insulted me today. Saying that my dreams won't happen because I'm a girl."

"Your dreams?" Jimmy rarely heard of his daughter's wishes for her future. Her reclusive nature was a completely mysterious to both her parents.

"Yeah, it made me so mad Dad. I just had to sock him." Dylan informed with a gestured punch. Jimmy laughed at his daughter's gut reaction and took a hold of her clenched fist.

"You know violence is never the answer, Dylan." Jimmy stated to her.

"That's stupid." Dylan grunted. "What am I suppose to do, let someone insult me and stand helpless?"

Jimmy gave a hearty chuckle towards his daughter's demeanor.

"Your mother thought the same thing when she your age."

"Mom, huh?" Dylan said, looking away sadly. "Does she hate me or something? Every time I get in trouble, sending me to my room is her answer."

"Dylan, absolutely not." Jimmy scolded her. "Why would think such a thing? Your mother loves you just as much as I do."

Dylan let out a deep breath. Her father cleared his throat and reached behind him.

"Don't let your mother know I gave you this." He announced, showing her his latest contraption. Dylan gasped and picked it up from his hands. She looked over it. It was a board, shaped like a regular skateboard…

"What is it?" She asked.

"I call it a hover-board. It works like a skateboard only without the wheels." He explained. That was a good enough urge for the youth to give it a test run. Immediately, she set the board down and stood on it. Jimmy watched his curious daughter hop on and just as plan, it rose from the air. There was a large grin that adopted Dylan's face. With that grin, Dylan snapped her legs around and the board swung. She attempted a flip only to have it backfire and send her plummeting onto her floor. Her father stood up in concern. "Dylan, you okay?"

There was laughter coming from the floor.

"That was awesome!"

The giddy child jumped up to her feet and ran up to hug her father.

"Thanks Dad."

"James! Dylan! What was that?!"

"Uh-oh." Dylan voiced. Jimmy only laughed.

"Don't worry Squirt, I'll take care of it. Just get ready for dinner." The genius told her. He stopped himself before leaving her room. Instead, he went back up to her and knelt down to her as she slid the board under her bed. He placed a hand on her shoulder. Dylan looked at him with those sky-blue eyes. "And don't worry about this Davis. You'll prove him wrong one day."

Dylan couldn't help but grin at her confident father.

"You sure, Dad?"

Dylan felt his hand tussle her hair.

"Of course, you're a Neutron!"

To be continued.

**Please, click that button. **


	2. High School

**Disclaimer, I own nothing. **

**~Soldier78~**

Hidden Talents

Ch.2: High School

"Dylan Neutron, get your butt out of bed!"

The said girl flipped over to her stomach, pulling her pillow over her head to drown out the shrill shout of her mother. She tried so hard to ignore the outside noises that she failed to hear the door to her room open and the mechanical creaks approaching her bed. She somehow managed to fall back asleep, dotting the silence with light snores.

She gasped when she felt something chomp down on her leg and turn her body to the right until it fell to the ground. She yelped once she collided with her hardwood floor, face down. Her head snapped up to glare at her father's most prized invention, Goddard the Robot dog that was somehow, after years of mobile activity, was still alive and kicking.

"Stupid Dog." She grumbled as she watched iron-on-legs saunter out of the room, giving a loud bark for a mission accomplish. Dylan stood up, brushing out the wrinkles of her large shirt. "One of these days, that thing is gonna get it."

The teenager stood in her bathroom, brushing her flowing dark blonde hair. She tied it into a ponytail and began to brush her teeth, still annoyed with the rude awakening.

Cindy waited downstairs for her teenage daughter, slightly peeved that this was the third time this week she had to send her husband's robot dog to literally drag the lazy girl out of bed. It disturbed that her daughter tended to be lazy. One would expect the offspring of a Neutron to be up on her feet, ready to seize the day and win the day. Nonetheless, Dylan showed absolutely no interest in competitiveness, she didn't drive herself to be the best she could be, she was a bit of a slacker and she just accepted life as it was. Definitely unlike her parents who were competitive to a fault, never able to swallow their pride…of course times change.

The teenager rushed down the stairs with heavy footsteps. She was just straightening out her oversized shirt and placed her trademark baseball cap on her head. She made it to the kitchen, wordlessly. She poured herself a bowl of cereal and grabbed the milk from the refrigerator, showing no interest in her mother's scorn.

"Dylan, this is the third time this week you overslept." Cindy scolded her daughter.

"My fault," Dylan said. "I don't know why it keeps happening."

"If you would just set your alarm clock then you wouldn't have this problem."

Dylan grumbled something under her breath.

"Mommy, Dylan said a bad word!" called Isaac Neutron, Dylan's baby brother of six years old.

"Dylan, watch your mouth."

"Sorry, Mom." Dylan said. At the last minute she rolled her eyes and muttered another 'bad' word.

"Mommy!"

"Dylan!"

Cindy glared at her eldest child.

"I'm going." Dylan droned, exiting the kitchen without another word. She quickly jogged over to her bike that was leaning against the garage. Underneath the garage was access to her father's underground laboratory, Dylan rarely visited that place. But as she removed the bike from side of the garage, she looked at it with soft eyes. Sometimes she did have a curiosity to see his latest projects. She caught herself. "Get going, Neutron."

She mounted on her bike and fiercely pedaled off before her mother could scold her again for not rushing off to school.

If there was one thing Dylan hated more than science class, it was the teacher, Mr. Fource. She couldn't pick up on things because of how dull and monotonous his voice was. All she knew from today's class was the fact that he was going on and on about momentum and other physics stuff she didn't care about at all.

And if there was one thing Dylan loved more than violent video games and sleeping, it was the sound of that final bell which ended the day's lessons. She grinned to herself and perked up but a defeated look on her face came to be when she saw how blank her notebook was…except for the random doodles of swords and symbols that appeared on her page. Dylan sighed and closed her book closed, stuffing it into her backpack and standing up. She was about to exit the room when Mr. Fource called her name.

"Ms. Neutron, a word please?" He said in his droning voice. Dylan groaned and slugged over to his desk.

"Yes, Mr. Fource?" She forced out, no pun intended. Mr. Fource looked up through the rims of his bifocals and stared at Dylan with disapproving eyes.

"Your grade is slipping again, Ms. Neutron." He informed her. That was no surprise to the teen. He didn't hear a word from her so he continued. "You failed last week's exam and several pop quizzes before that. According to my gradebook, you fall at a dangerously low D."

Dylan sighed.

"This is most disappointing." Mr. Fource said, removing his glasses and staring up at Dylan with his beady eyes. "I never expected the daughter of esteemed James Neutron to fall so low in my course."

'_What does that have to do with anything?'_ Dylan voiced in her head. She hid her peeved emotions as best as she could.

"Excuse me, Mr. Fource?"

The Physics teacher sighed.

"I expected a Neutron to understand the basics of physics at least."

Dylan froze at that phrase, her concealed hand clenched into a fist but it took all of her willpower to not hit the old man.

"Is that all sir?" She asked with gritted teeth.

"You are excused." He dismissed.

Dylan slammed her locker door with a loud, enraged grunt.

"Whoa, someone's in a bad mood."

Dylan glared at Joey Estevez, son of Libby and Sheen Estevez and her best friend. He was the spitting image of his father only less hyperactive and more into sports. He still loved video games though and Dylan would rarely pass up a time to defeat her loyal confidant in, specifically, Battleground franchise, a successful warfare game with the best armory technology and greatest virtual effects. Dylan had to credit Joey for getting through the first miserable years of high school with his cheeky, laidback attitude that they both shared. Dylan wouldn't have picked a better companion than Joey.

"So what was it this time? Another one of those 'fix your grade' speeches from Mr. F?" Joey asked.

"Yup." Dylan said, fumbling with her baseball cap so it could be placed onto her head.

"Lemme guess, 'You are the daughter of James Neutron, why are you messing up in my class.'" Joey impersonated. Dylan laughed.

"Not exactly his words but very similar." She commented as she slid her hat until her head. They walked down the hall but stopped when they heard screeching and yelling. They joined the crowd to see the high school 'it' couple verbally fighting. "Oh great, they're at it again."

"Hey maybe this time, it'll finally be done." Joey commented.

"I'll wager against that." Dylan challenged. Joey glared at her. "Please, you really think that the couple who breaks up and makes up twenty three times will finally end it at the twenty fourth?"

"I don't really see your point." Joey said, confusedly. Dylan rolled her eyes and shook her head. At that same time, the female of the relationship stormed away. Dylan felt her shoulder jab into her's, staggering her back a step.

"Move it, loser." Growled Becky Dean, the drama queen/diva and Dylan's high school nemesis. Dylan rubbed her shoulder briefly and looked at Joey who shrugged. The two exited the school.

"You know, your parents were the same way." Joey said. "Dad told me that they dated and broke up at least forty times."

"There's one flaw to your evidence, Joe."

"And what's that?"

"My parents are married." Dylan reminded, in a matter-of-fact way.

"So, do they still argue?" Joey said with a smug grin.

"Most assuredly." Dylan commented. Joey's confident look dropped and he only shot a glare at his best friend. His shoulders slugged in defeat.

"Oh bite me."

Dylan laughed again and Joey decided to change the subject.

"So you want to hang at my place and do some serious gaming?" Joey asked.

"Love too, but can't." Dylan stated. Her 'peeved' tone started to kick in. "Mom wants me to watch Isaac for the night. Dad's got some important dinner to attend."

"How are your folks anyway?" Joey asked.

"The same when you last asked. Mom is still on my case about school and Dad keeps coming home late and droning on about his latest 'flawed-free' project for NASA." Dylan reported. She sighed. "And Isaac is still trying to ruin my life by being a big tattletale."

"Ah, he'll grow out of it." Joey assured her. "Graystar did."

"Remind me again why your parents named your little sister after a one-hit wonder band?"

"I have no clue." Joey stated, clueless to the reason of the odd name. "At least it wasn't some name like Ultra-Lord."

"I'd think that would've been yours." Dylan pointed out.

They kept walking and talking, Dylan held onto her bike with both hands as they cruised along the sidewalk.

"Dylan, come down here!"

"Coming, Mom!"

Dylan looked back at her textbook. She was reading the first paragraph of her physics book for the twentieth time. She grunted and threw down her pencil.

"I'll never understand science." She mumbled under her breath.

"Dylan!"

She groaned again and stood up.

"Coming!"

Dylan jogged down the stairs with ease, appearing to her parents who were just about to leave.

"What's up?" The teen asked.

"We're about to leave. There are some leftovers in the fridge. Heat those up and make sure Isaac is in bed by eight." Her mother instructed. "And don't blow up the house."

"Thanks for the vote of confident, Mom." Dylan quipped, sarcastically.

"We'll be home by ten." Cindy informed her daughter.

"Got it." Dylan said with an unenthusiastic thumbs-up. She held the door in her hand and watched both her parents exit the house. She shut the door with a sigh and saw her little brother lying down on the living room floor, coloring messily on a piece of paper.

She retreated to the kitchen to finally fix up a meal after looking at the clock at the mantel. She was in no hurry to return to her science homework. Dylan rifled through the fridge.

"Hey Isaac, what do you want for dinner?!" Dylan shouted with her head stuck inside the thing.

"Anything you want, Dylie!"

Dylan cussed under her breath, she hated that nickname and even more, she hated that she had to make something only to start over again. This happened every time she babysat her brother. He wouldn't give her a request and she would heat up almost everything in the microwave because he turned his nose up on everything.

Dylan, after several attempts, managed to feed Isaac spaghetti. The next step was cleaning up the floor which was splotched with all the food he had thrown in a fit. Dylan grumbled to herself.

"He's getting to old for this." She muttered as she mopped the floor. She ignored Isaac who was in the other room, jumping up and down and trying to get Dylan's attention.

"Dylie! Dingoboy's on! Dingoboy's on!"

"So? Go sit on the couch and watch it!" Dylan hissed.

"Watch it with me, Dylie!" Isaac cried.

"I'm busy cleaning up your mess!" Dylan roared from the other room but her enraged tone was no different than her soft tone to her brother. He merrily ran up as she mopped and leapt onto her back. Dylan felt the sudden weigh and nearly collapsed.

"Watch it with me!" Her baby brother whined. "Pwease…"

Dylan was now holding her brother by his armpits. She saw the pouting look Isaac was extremely good at. Even to her, it was irresistible. Sighing in annoyance to herself, she surrendered.

"Fine." She said, placing him back on the ground. "Just give me a second."

Isaac cheered and ran into the living room, hopping onto the couch. Dylan scratched the top of her brow.

"Little brat." She cursed quietly as she finished up cleaning.

Dylan felt her stomach growl from the lack of food when she was back at her desk, staring blankly at the textbook page. She somehow succeeded at moving onto the second paragraph. Things eventually settled down when she got Isaac bathed and in bed. She was so out of tune with the rest of the world until she heard a loud slam of the door. Down below, there was some sort of argument going on.

"I am just saying, he has a very flawed hypothesis about the String Theory."

"Would you just drop it?"

Dylan tried her best to ignore the strange, confusing words that her parents used. To her, it was a completely different language that she didn't even bother to try to understand. She shook her head, knowing that it was some sort of academia argument and not one about finance and work and other stuff that actually mattered to Dylan. Fortunately, the argument ended with footsteps crawling up the stairs.

There was a sharp knock on the door.

"Hey Squirt."

Dylan couldn't help but grin without looking up from her textbook. Even though she was sixteen, she liked it when her father called her by his special nickname for her…away from public eyes. The door was open and Jimmy slipped into his daughter's room.

"Hey Dad." Dylan said with her lopsided grin.

"How was babysitting Isaac?"

"About as usual as it always is, Dad." Dylan jested. Jimmy smiled and walked up to her desk, his old desk.

"Give him time, Dylan. Isaac will grow up just like you." Jimmy assured with a hand on her shoulder. "He's just…a bit late in development."

"He's still throwing food all over the place." Dylan informed. Jimmy laughed but noticed her textbook.

"Hey, Newton's Third Law." Jimmy indicated with his chuckle. "I haven't read material on that in a long time."

"It's a basic explanation, Dad." Dylan reminded.

"Isn't it interesting?" Jimmy asked his daughter. "How two forces exert force on each other and…"

"Yeah, Dad?" Dylan interrupted. Jimmy stopped in his rambling.

"Right, I'll leave you to it then, Genius." Jimmy said with a pat on her shoulder. "G'night."

"G'night Dad." Dylan bid as she watched her Dad exit her room. He quietly closed the door and she released an exasperated sigh. When she turned her chair back to the desk, she was suddenly reminded of Mr. Fource's words.

'_I expected a Neutron to understand the basics of physics at least.'_

Dylan dropped her pencil and gave another sigh, her head fell to her desk, forehead pressed against the ink on her textbook helplessly.

"There is no hope for me." She grumbled.

To be continued.

**Please, click that button. **


	3. Talk of Talent

**Sorry I haven't updated all that much. Here's the next chapter! Please read and review! **

**~Soldier78~**

Hidden Talents

Ch.3: Talk of Talent

Dylan was about to chomp down on her ham sandwich, paying selective attention to Joey's story about his discovery of his newest birthmark when she saw a familiar body strut towards the table.

"Oh great." She said, lowering her sandwich. Here came Becky Dean, who appeared to be a better mood than yesterday, if you count her sashaying her hips around and making fun of people just for laughs better than enraged pushing and shoving. Behind her was her little posse of three friends. There was a redhead, brunette and blonde. Dylan lacked the names of all three of them and she didn't give the slightest care.

"Oh look, it's the loser table." Mocked Becky. Dylan rolled her eyes at the snickers of her friends.

"I see you're in a better mood. Made up with Mickey?" Dylan voiced, sarcastically.

"Yes, everything is better in the world again." Becky said, flipping her flashing hair around. Dylan rolled her eyes for the second time and looked at Joey briefly.

"Why are you over here anyway, Becky?" Joey inquired. The two friends were looking up at the group.

"I came over to see if our friend, Dylan here was going to sign up for the talent show." Becky informed. "Just wanted to see my competition."

"Oh wait, Becky, you forgot something." Cried the Redhead girl. Dylan looked at Joey again.

"That's right, Laurie." Becky agreed. She pretended to tap her chin. "She has no talent!"

There was uproar of laughter coming from the group and they strutted away. Dylan glared at the horde but soon returned to her sandwich, trying to forget the whole ordeal.

"How do you do that?" Joey asked.

"Do what?" Dylan asked, puzzled. She quickly spoke again before him. "By the way you owe me five bucks."

Joey grumbled, remembering their bet on Becky and Mickey. As he pulled out his wallet to pay up, he rephrased his question.

"Why do you let Becky degrade you?" Joey asked as he handed over the fresh, crispy, new bill. Dylan shrugged as she folded the money and pocketed it in her cargo shorts.

"Because she's really not worth my time." Dylan replied, modestly. Joey sniggered, Dylan glared at him.

"What's so funny?" She challenged.

"Sorry but weren't you the one who socked anyone who insulted you?" Joey reprimanded. Dylan rolled her eyes.

"That was elementary school." Dylan refuted. "If you hadn't noticed, I've matured."

"Not much." Joey jeered only to be nailed in the head with an orange. He yelped and pointed at her, rubbing his temple. "See!"

Dylan only rolled her eyes before finally indulging herself with her sandwich.

It was quite amusing to Dylan to watch her best friend try to defeat in her in a game of basketball. Sure, he had height and bulging muscles to his advantage, but he lacked the agility and cunning stunts that Dylan was able to master.

* * *

"C'mon n' get me, Neutron!" taunted Joey who dribbled the ball against the pavement. Dylan laughed and got into her stance. Joey charged around her but she instantly got between him and the net. Once he was in the air, releasing the basketball, she jumped up and used her hand to smack the ball. In surprise, he watched the ball bounce away and before he knew it, Dylan retrieved it.

Dylan laughed, arrogantly as she sauntered up to the three-point line, bouncing the ball against the cement and looking at her friend, dead in the eye.

"Come and get me, Estevez!" Dylan teased. Joey rolled his eyes, good-naturedly and attempted to steal the ball. Dylan laughed, spinning away from him and driving to the basket. With a single jump and toss against the backboard, the ball fell easily into the net without touching the rim. Dylan did one of her boasting gestures to her best friend before grabbing the bouncing ball and passing it to him to his chest. Joey wheezed from the impact. She may not look like much but she did have strong passes.

"You know, you got quite a talent when it comes to sports." Joey commented after suffering another humiliating defeat from his companion. He was up at the three-point line, checking it to her when he decided to mention it.

"It's no talent." Dylan said as she took the ball with one hand and passed it without a single pause. Joey caught it with both his hands this time, not even moving.

"But you're really good, if only you could show that-"

"Please don't tell me you're still thinking about my 'no-talent' remark from Becky Dean." Dylan droned with her eyes looking up to the sky in irritation. He absently passed the ball to her. Dylan, in turn, caught it. Joey's hand fell to the back of his neck.

"Well-"

Dylan sighed.

"Just drop it." She commanded, passing the ball back.

"So you're just going to let her degrade you?" Dylan heard him retort.

"Is that a new favorite word?"

"What word?"

"Degrade."

Joey shook his head to end the digression.

"I'm serious, Dylan." He said in his best stern voice, tossing it back to her. Dylan remained silent. "I don't understand Dylan. I know you say that you've changed, but you used to really be defensive when someone comes at you."

"I think I'm too old to be tackling people in the cafeteria and pinning 'em to the ground, shouting for them to take it back." Dylan quipped with sarcasm.

"Dylan…" Joey trailed. Dylan placed the ball between her hip and arm and used her free hand to pinch her forehead.

"Look, Joe." Dylan said, removing her hand and gesturing to him. "I don't even know if I have a talent."

"A Neutron with no talent?" Joey responded in shock. "Come on, for Ultalord's sakes, you gotta have talent in something."

"…you've been hanging around with your Dad a little too much." Dylan commented, ending with a slanted grin. Joey rolled his eyes. Sometimes, it was hard to get through Dylan's thick head.

* * *

Cindy heard the front door open and slam shut loudly. She jumped at the sound and knew that the only one who could produce such ruckus was her daughter. However, the voice in her phone made her advert her attention to the phone call.

"Yes, Mr. Fource, I understand. Her father and I will talk to her tonight and figure out a solution to this problem." She said. Her emerald eyes followed Dylan who sauntered into the kitchen and rifled into the fridge for a can of Purple Flurp. Dylan had opened her can and her eyes bulged wide when she heard her Physics Teacher's name. "Alright, you have a good night. Goodbye."

Once the phone was hung up, Dylan attempted to make an escape, leaving her soda can on the island counter.

"Dylan Curie Neutron!"

Dylan closed her eyes in defeat and slunk back into the kitchen to face the wrath of her mother.

"Yes, Mom?" She mumbled. She leaned against the counter with her arms folded nervously against each other.

"Your Physics Teacher, Mr. Fource just called." She scolded. "Are you aware that you have a D in his course?"

Dylan sighed.

"Yeah." She said, picking up her forgotten can and taking a effortless swig.

"And you haven't done anything about it?"

Dylan reluctantly shook her head.

"No, I haven't." She confessed.

"A D, Dylan."

"I know." Dylan muttered.

"You better fix this or so help me-"

"I thought this was about me." Dylan commented. Cindy looked at her defiant daughter with a fixed glare. The teen shook her head. "I really am trying Mom, it's just…I can't get a stupid concept down!"

Of course Dylan would make that sort of excuse carelessly to get out of it.

"You are aware that your father works for NASA right and is a super genius who works with Pomona for Advance Physics right?" Cindy reminded in a tone that was also known in Dylan's personality.

"Yeah I know, but…"

"But nothing…you've got to solve this grade problem." Cindy sternly informed her slacking daughter. Defeated, she relented on her harsh tone. "You just can't keep doing this Dylan, you almost repeated last year because of your grades. Why do you do this to yourself?"

"Mom, I've straightened up since last year, honest." Dylan reported.

"Yeah, we're proud that you finally have Cs in English and History."

"Actually, it's at a B right now in history."

"Not the topic at hand, Dylan. Fix this D!"

Dylan watched her mother march out of the room to deal with her own work. Isaac walked into the kitchen, passing by their enraged mother.

"Wow, what's wrong with Mommy?"

Dylan sighed and walked out of the room to go retreat upstairs in her room to sulk, ignoring her oblivious brother.

To be continued.

**Please, Click that button. **


	4. Explosions

**Here's the next chapter and I kinda like this one. This is where we see the strains of Dylan and her parents. **

**Please review!**

**~Soldier78~**

Hidden Talent

Ch.4: Explosions

It was a Saturday afternoon and Dylan was stuck indoors to study for her Physics test coming the following Monday. Her mother made her sit down at her desk, video games disabled until she at least put a good amount of studying before playing her eyes dry at the computer screen.

As every weekend, Jimmy had the day of and so did his wife. Cindy decided to go shopping with her still best friend Libby and would be gone for the afternoon. Meanwhile, with Isaac playing with his own play buddy across the street and Dylan studying, the adult genius was found in the confines of his lab.

Dylan sighed in boredom and turned the page. She heard the downstairs door open and close and heard whistling. She recognized that whistle and looked back at her book.

'_You are aware that your father works for NASA right and is a super genius who works with Pomona for Advance Physics right?'_

Dylan gave another sigh in defeat.

"I must be out of my mind." She mumbled. She stood up, grabbed her book and headed for downstairs where she found her father sifting through the refrigerator. "Hey Dad?"

Jimmy's head stuck out of the fridge.

"Hey Squirt." He greeted with the same grin that Dylan inherited, only hers was more uneven. "Your mother told me that you need to study for an important test on Monday."

"Yeah about that…" Dylan trailed. She had her hand against the back of her neck, rubbing it nervously. "I need some help."

"Sure, what is it? Quantum gravity? String theory? Gauge theory?"

"Uh...it's momentum and inertia." Dylan said, sheepishly.

"Oh, so the basics?"

"Pretty much."

"Come on, let's go to my lab."

Dylan scanned around in awe at the spectrum of her father's lab. The last time she saw it was a few years ago and the details were fuzzy except for the fact that it was a bit smaller. Every time she saw it, it changed it seemed like.

Jimmy pointed to a desk and Dylan set her book down right there.

"So what do you need help with in momentum and inertia?"

"Uh…"

Jimmy noticed the confused look on his daughter's face.

"Okay, do you know what momentum is?"

Dylan remained silent and Jimmy looked at her in surprise.

"Okay, how about inertia?"

More silence. Jimmy sighed, now exasperated.

"Do you know anything about physics?"

It was like talking to a two year old because his daughter gave him that same look of confusion that his friends would give him when he was going on with his long rants. Jimmy shook his head and released another exhale, trying to convey a solution to tutor the teen.

Dylan attempted to decipher the words her father was speaking. She knew he was trying to down play his fancy terminology but he wasn't quite there yet. Dylan ended up staring into oblivion, eying her father's inventions that grabbed her curiosity.

She saw something on the same table as her. A rectangular box that looked like in development and not quite finished, but her strengthening intrigue made her reach out to touch the big, red button.

"Hey Dad," She interrupted. "What's this?"

Jimmy froze when he saw his daughter centimeters away from the button.

"No Dylan, don't touch that!"

Too late, her finger gave it a push and the thing started to rattle. Dylan's finger jerked back and she watched the box take shape and begin to dance around funnily. Dylan's first instinct ducked and she watched her father try to control the invention.

"Hold on, Dad. I got it!" She interjected as she chased the crazy machine. She crashed into another table of inventions, many toppling them over. She righted herself and charged at the insane object.

"Dylan, don't…" Jimmy cringed when he heard another resonating crash. Her body emerged from a pile of beakers, lunging at the animated box that stood in the middle of the floor, making random arm movements. She grinned, wittingly picked up a trash can, dumping out its contents and aimed herself. She timed it just right and leapt. Jimmy watched as she trapped the machine under the can, her body pinning the metal container down. Dylan's tongue was sticking out, her brows furrowed together as she smirked in victory.

"Ha ha!" She declared, loudly.

"Dylan-" Jimmy tried to coax, stepping forward but when he was just beginning to move, there was an unmistakable loud trembling noise. Dylan's smirk fell as she felt the tremor.

"Not good." She stated the obvious. Before Jimmy could get Goddard to help the teen or even he could help, there was a loud explosion and Dylan's body flew back, hitting a shelf of even more beakers and test tubes that shattered upon impact. Once everything settled down, the adult genius looked around at his destroyed lab.

"My lab." He cried. Dylan shook her head, glass falling from the crown of her head. Jimmy checked on his daughter who was just beginning to rise to her feet. He couldn't use his voice to even yell at her at that moment but Dylan could tell by the look in his eyes that he was certainly not happy with her. Dylan even got a look around the lab and she winced, realizing the mess she made.

"Oh God." She mumbled in guilt and she looked at her father. "Dad…I'm sorry, I didn't-"

Jimmy gave a look of scorn to his daughter, anger seething into his voice.

"How many times did I tell you not to touch anything when you're in my lab?!" He snarled at her. Dylan's shoulders bunched up at the tone of his voice that he rarely used against her.

"Dad I-"

Jimmy sighed in defeat and closed her textbook, his back to her.

"Just go, Dylan." He softly ordered her. Dylan opened and closed her mouth when she couldn't string a coherent sentence.

"But Dad I-"

"Go!"

Dylan scrambled to get her textbook and papers, quickly scurrying out the door before anything else would've happened.

Dylan slowly marched towards the backdoor of her house, her eyes fell upon the garage in maddening guilt. She never heard her dad speak to her like that, not even her Mom spoke to her like that.

"I really messed up." She mumbled to herself. She suddenly felt like the worse enemy to the family. Now anger invaded her hurt tone, her brows knitted so close together and her feet tromped inside in anguish.

She was lucky her mother wasn't home to pick up the cues of a frustrated and distraught daughter and an even more frustrated and angrier husband. Dylan escaped upstairs and slammed the door shut in her room, she threw her textbook onto her table and stared at it murderously. After some silence, she retreated to her bed and laid down, staring up at the star-laden ceiling.

"Why am I always the enemy?"

To be continued.

**Please, click that button. **


	5. For the Better

**Next chapter! Please leave a review if you get the chance. I really liked feedback. Enjoy!**

**~Soldier78~ **

Hidden Talents

Ch.5: For the Better

Dylan could hear the conversation from the living room. She sat on the top steps just outside of her room, overhearing the disappointed words coming from her parents' mouth. Her elbows were resting on the tops of her knees and she leaned forward, her eyes glued to the carpet stairs.

"I just don't know what to do, Cindy." Her father confessed. "I tried to teach her the basics of momentum and inertia but she has the attention span of a bird."

"Well we can't let her fail." Her mother's voice responded. Dylan bit her lip. "Jimmy, you know she's not going to end up a genius like you."

"She blew up a part of my lab." Jimmy said. There was another sight, his voice lowered. "What are we going to do with her?"

"I don't know, but we'll figure out something. We always do."

"Sometimes I wish Dylan…" He paused and sighed in defeat. That was a good enough cue for Dylan to exit the front door quietly without disturbing her parents.

Dylan sauntered down the sidewalk with her hands stuck into the pockets of her jeans. Without her blazer, she could feel the goosebumps on her arms from the cool air. She exhaled, heavily, able to feel the defeat that hung on her head. She never felt so terrible in her life. Her eyes glanced at the gash beneath her arm; it was thin and slightly jagged from one of the beakers.

"The world hates me." She grumbled as she wandered down the sidewalk, absently. She figured she was a few blocks from her home, hopefully her parents didn't discover her absence. "Some people lose their phones or go to summer school, but I bomb a lab?!"

She paid no attention to the hose that stretched across her path. Her foot slipped under the obstruction and she tipped forward, falling to the cement face first. She grunted and cursed under her breath. She raised her upper body with her elbows and rose to her feet slowly when she heard noise coming from a bar just down the street. Her brow arched up and she was drawn to the noise like a lightning bug to a lamp. She approached the open windows of the place and looked up at the building; the Downy Pub.

She looked inwards and saw a group of musicians huddled around in a circle. In the middle was a table filled with glasses of beer. The musicians wielded several types of instruments that were familiar and unfamiliar. She could count at least five violinists, three guitarists, one hand drum player, a couple of accordions and some whistlers, there was even a bagpipe without the mouth piece.

They were playing a style of music completely strange to the teen. They were ripping out a melody and sounded really good. Witnesses gave hoots and hollers and even participants in the circle chorused. Dylan's ears throbbed from the loud music but her foot tapped to the beat. Her blue eyes gazed upon a young violinist that was in front of her line of vision. He paused and began to motion her towards him. Dylan grinned and entered the bar without a single ounce of hesitation.

She never heard anything like it before. It was fast and furious, the piper was loud and deafening but still carried the tune with grace. She noticed the violinists tag-teaming with the melody and harmonies. She could remember her first go at violin, one of the things that made her fail as a Neutron but Dylan ignored the self-defeating thought and embraced the unusual style of music.

"Oi, what're yeh doin' 'ere?!" barked a man, thick in an Irish brawl and not surprisingly brawny. Dylan turned her head to look up, seeing the man glaring at her.

"I…uh…" Her throat went dry.

"Calm down Dad, I invited 'er inside." Came a voice. Dylan looked over her shoulder to see the same violinist who motioned her earlier, waltzing up to them, his violin in his hand.

"Bryant, yeh know what I say 'bout bringin' yer friends with yeh." The man scolded his son.

"I know Dad, but she looked so interested." Bryant defended himself. He even had a bit of the same accent of his father. His blue eyes shimmered at his father as he made his case. The Dad sighed.

"Alright, but none o' this again. Yeh're only allowed in 'ere because it's my pub." The dad proclaimed. He marched away, grumbling something that Dylan couldn't register but she didn't care as she turned to meet the gaze of the boy who came to her rescue.

"Wow, thanks." She said with her slanted grin.

"No problem, my dad's just a bit…gruff." Dylan heard him retort. "Don' mind him."

"I won't."

"I'm Bryant, Bryant Downy." The boy introduced, hand stretched out to meet Dylan's. Dylan gave a chuckle and shook it.

"Dylan Neutron." She informed.

"Neutron? Isn't tha' the name of that famous scientist…uh…James Neutron?"

"Yep, that's my dear Daddy." Dylan announced, an ounce of venom in her voice. Bryant eyed her before shrugging off her weird tone.

"Tha's nice. Bet yeh have a lot of his inventions." He guessed.

"Nah, I keep it nice and simple." Dylan said, dismissing it with a wave.

"Oi, Bryant! We got a hot one startin' up!" cried one of the jammers. "We need someone to start the Gravel Walks."

"Excuse me." Bryant said with his charming grin as he exited to his seat. Dylan smiled and watched him kick up the tune, his bow sawing the strings with such ease and glancing around the circle. She couldn't help but watch in awe as the whole circle began to belt out the tune, loudly again. It was just as good as the other set she heard. After a few minutes, she heard the loud cries.

"Hut!"

And a new tune started without the slightest pause.

A few sets later, Dylan saw Bryant packing up after she said she was going to head home. She was surprised when he offered to walk with her.

"I need teh get home too." He reasoned as he shut his case.

They exited the bar and walked down the vacant sidewalks, the streets were quiet without cars zooming passed every second of the day.

"So, what brought yeh 'ere tonight?" Bryant asked as they sauntered.

"I was on a walk earlier and heard your music. I decided to check it out." Dylan said. Bryant smiled. "It's really good music, you're really good at the violin."

Aside from Dylan's choice of words, he blushed but he quickly corrected her.

"Fiddle." He told her. "I don' do that violin nonsense."

"What's the difference?"

"There isn't a difference…except in genre of music. Violin is called violin in classical music, what yeh heard wasn't classical."

"I'm highly aware." Dylan said with her usual drone. "But okay, fiddle."

Bryant laughed.

"So do yeh play anything?" He asked.

"My Mom signed me up for violin lessons and made me play up until I was thirteen."

"What made yeh stop?"

"I didn't like it." She said. "I didn't like the music I was playing, it was so boring."

"Lemme guess, classical right?"

"Hit it right on the nail."

Bryant chuckled again.

"So why on a walk so late? Usually parents would curb their kids at this hour." Bryant commented.

"Oh like your Dad did?" Dylan refuted with her trademark eye roll and sarcasm. "And by the way, I'm not a kid. I'm sixteen years old."

"Okay, big kid, why were you out so late?"

Dylan sighed.

"I kinda…did something stupid to get my Dad's lab blown up." Dylan confessed. This time, Bryant laughed.

"Wow, that's the most...unusual thing I've heard!" Bryant hooted. Dylan weakly faked her own laughter.

"Y-yeah." She stammered. "Heh."

Bryant calmed down and looked at her friend.

"Aw, I'm sorry. I didn' mean to make yeh sad." He said. "It's just…a bit funny."

"It was, to be honest." Dylan interjected. "You should've seen it."

"What blew it up?"

"Some weird dancing invention, I pressed a button and it went haywire." Dylan told him. "Jumped around and did all these movements, it gave me a good chase around the room."

Bryant laughed and they fell into silence. Dylan's eyes searched around mindlessly, thoughts elsewhere.

"So…now that I think about it…I think I saw you before, in school." Bryant said, awkwardly. Dylan looked at the boy with an amused gleam in her captivating, sky blue eyes. "You're at Retroville High right?"

"Seemingly that's the only high school in this entire suburb, yeah." Dylan stated, confidently. Bryant's mouth lifted a little bit more, mirroring her uneven smile. "I'm a Junior."

"Me too." He confirmed. "Though, I don't think we have any classes together."

"Probably because I take only one honors course and the rest are regulars." Dylan admitted.

"Only one honors, in what?" Bryant inquired.

"World History." Dylan said with a modest shrug. "Nothing major."

They had just arrived in front of the Neutron household and as they talked, they ascended the steps.

"Oh, so you like history?" He had asked her. Dylan gave a shy nod.

"It's pretty cool stuff." Dylan warranted. "I find the Viking Expansion and the Norman raids pretty cool."

"The warfare of it all?"

"Yup." Dylan said. She looked at the front door. "Well, this is it."

"I'll see you around." Bryant said. "Most likely in school."

"Yeah." Dylan said, releasing a nervous laugh. "I guess so."

There was a moment of awkward silence. Bryant somehow had the courage to break it with his soft, empathetic voice.

"Hey, if you need to, you can stop by the pub anytime, I'm there half the time." Bryant said.

"You like basketball?" Dylan asked, abruptly.

"Yeah, I find the sport fun."

"You're always invited to play some with me and my best bud, Joey." Dylan offered. Bryant could only smile at the short, to-the-point this girl was. He could only nod his head and Dylan opened the front door of her home, slipping inside and saying a hasty goodbye to Bryant.

Dylan was surprised to find herself in an empty living room. Calmly, she walked into the kitchen to find no lurking shadows to catch her in her faults but she soon snuck upstairs, quickly stopping to the bathroom to deal with the jaggy cut on her forearm she was convinced that very minor. Her father was a very clean person when it came to chemicals.

Dylan sat on her bed, rolling her arm with gauze repeatedly after cleaning the injury. Her mind traced back the evening's happenings and she grinned fondly at the idea of having another good friend to add, the other plus side was the fact that he was Irish and she had always been fascinated with emerald isle, for most of her life she settled with the quarter she inherited from her mother and the other mess of European she collected from both her parents.

The young Neutron glanced at the closet, staring at the forgotten violin case in some sort of longing but ignored it when she decided it was time to go to bed.

By the time Monday rolled around, Dylan moved on with her life and sat, irate, in her physics period. She twirled the pencil and occasionally sketched a few lines around the little notes she had taken in the course.

Once the bell rang, she was gone from the classroom and escaped the deathly glare of Mr. Fource. She pushed through the crowded hallways and eventually arrived at the metal door of her locker. Routinely, she opened the door only to find a slight surprise within the top shelf.

She picked it up in interest and looked at the cover.

_Irish Fiddle Tunes_

She also noticed a small note attached and read it while kids behind her scrambled to their next class, completely ignoring the oblivious teen.

Dylan could only give her best lopsided grin as she tucked the CD into her backpack and folded the note.

To be continued.

**Please, click that button. **


	6. Grandma Vortex

**Here's a good chapter! Please keep reviewing and enjoying this story! I hope y'all are enjoying this story. **

**~Soldier78~**

Hidden Talents

Ch.6: Grandma Vortex

Dylan stuck out her tongue as she investigated a problem with her bike. She heard the back door open but didn't bother to look up.

"Hey Squirt." Her dad called, placing his hand on her baseball cap, on backwards, and gave it an affectionate shake.

"Hey Dad." Dylan said as she removed her hand from her bike chain, her hands covered in blacken grease. Jimmy noticed her sky blue eyes glaring at the metal contraption.

"Bike problem?"

"Yeah, it's this stupid chain." Dylan said, grunting as she worked.

"You want me to look at it?" Jimmy offered.

"Nah, I think I got it." Dylan said. "Thanks though, Dad."

It had been at least three weeks since the incident in the Neutron lab. Since then, Dylan and her father had forgiven each other however, Dylan refrained from asking her Dad for further help with science. She placed more effort into physics but still however, struggled.

"Well okay, I just came out to tell you that we're having dinner at your mother's parents tonight." Dylan heard him say. Dylan's eyes widened a bit and her lips fell into a distressed frown.

"Aw man, really?" She whined, her shoulders dropped in utter defeat. "Do I have to go?"

Jimmy gave a light chuckle.

"I know you don't have the greatest relationship with your grandparents but-"

"I'm fine with Grandpa, but Grandma…"

Jimmy could cringe at the mention of Mrs. Vortex from her daughter's mouth. The way his daughter spoke of her, it was out of venom and uncertainty. Cindy was also concerned for the failing relationship between grandmother and grandchild, she spoke to Jimmy about several times, trying to dissect and diagnose the root of the issue. There were three possibilities. A) She was still upset that her only daughter decided to marry the boy genius who was known for faulty inventions and destroying the town. B) Dylan was not turning out like her driven daughter or C) She was just naturally bitter and cruel, Dylan seemed to like that option the best.

"Sorry S quirt, but you'll get through it. You always do." Jimmy said. Dylan rolled her eyes and sighed in defeat, she glanced distantly at her bike. Her blue eyes turning from sky to ice at the mention of tonight.

"Fine." She said. Jimmy gave her a pat on the shoulder and walked away. However, he did stop and looked over his shoulder.

"Oh and Dylan?"

"Yeah Dad?"

"Behave."

Dylan rolled her eyes good-naturedly at her paranoid father.

"I always do, Dad."

Jimmy only shook his head, heckling as he walked into his house, letting Dylan return to her repair project.

Dylan hated wearing her khaki pants. They showed her ankles and she hated the unwanted breeze. They also made her look a lot more feminine than she wanted. She also had to leave behind her trademark baseball cap, so the top of her head felt naked except for the mop of her hair.

Dylan grumbled under her breath as the family of four approached the door of the Vortex residence. Upon the knock that Isaac wanted to perform eagerly, it was Mr. Vortex who answered the door.

"Well if it isn't my favorite Neutrons." He greeted with a large grin.

"Hi Grampa!" Isaac greeted with his little jump. Mr. Vortex laughed and picked up the boy.

"Hello Isaac, my you're getting big!" He informed with a hearty laugh, hoisting their son in the air. Isaac giggled and the parents only smiled, Dylan felt a bit of grin form. The grandpa looked at his granddaughter and gave her a fervent smile. "And hello, and you must be my granddaughter."

Dylan laughed and gave him a one arm hug.

"Hey Gramp." She said, using her pet name for her grandparent. Grandpa Vortex smiled and welcomed the family inside. Dylan glanced over her shoulder at her parents, Cindy remained impassive, looking about the old house that she grew up in while Jimmy gave his daughter a empathetic smile, Dylan faked her own grin when her grandma entered the foyer.

"Ah, if it isn't my Cindy." Sasha Vortex proclaimed in her deep, tenor voice. Dylan always tried to refrain from cracking up when she heard that unmistakable voice. Sasha gave her daughter a hug and looked at Jimmy. "And her darling husband."

"Good evening, Mrs. Vortex." Dylan wondered why Jimmy didn't call her 'mom.'

"And if it isn't my darling grandchildren."

Isaac of course, was oblivious to his grandmother's sardonic voice and gave her a hug.

"Hi Gram."

Dylan couldn't help but share a chuckle with her dad when she saw the look on Sasha's face, she was not impressed…it should've disturbed the parents but something didn't make it so.

At the dinner table, the family sat down. Dylan was sitting next to her brother and her grandmother. Jimmy sat next to his wife who sat across from her mother and Mr. Vortex sat at the head of the table. Sasha kept giving her granddaughter glances waywardly, studying her posture (which was pathetic and all slouchy). Dylan seemed to enjoy the hearty meal, shoveling it in her mouth, getting occasional glares from her mother. Sasha politely set down her fork and looked at her granddaughter.

"So Dylan, how is your academics coming along?" Sasha inquired. Dylan's eyes slightly widened in her usual comical way and she swallowed, she placed her spoon back on the table and looked nervously at the table cloth.

"Well…um…good." Dylan answered. "I'm passing my classes."

"I see…and has there been anything interesting happen to you?" Sasha added. Dylan cleared her throat.

"Um…define interesting." Dylan requested.

"Any accomplishments?"

Cindy looked up at her daughter with a nervous look. Dylan seemed to be a little downcast as she bit her lip, her white teeth showing. Dylan got herself together, shaking her shoulders a bit and looked her grandmother in the eye.

"I can dunk at the park's court." Dylan said. "I also beat the newest game from the Battleground franchise."

Sasha seemed bewildered at the Neutron daughter's response. It was just as pathetic as her posture, lazy and very disappointing but she kept her disdain hidden as she feigned a look of 'awkward approval' Dylan named.

"That is…most interesting." Sasha said, sardonically and Dylan could tell by the tone of her voice that it was seething and she winced, feeling a bit defeated for not giving the proper answer. Cindy could see the look of guilt in her daughter's face and felt sympathetic for her, a usual feeling when they visited her parents. If only Dylan had the will to be so accomplished, Sasha wouldn't ride on her as much. Dylan didn't deserve the scorn, she wasn't that bad of a child. Perhaps, she could have a nice, long talk to her mother. There was an awkward silence until Mr. Vortex broke it with the clear of his throat.

"So, you still love sports, don't you?" Mr. Vortex asked his granddaughter. Dylan's dreadful face changed to a brilliant grin, lighting up her face and bringing out her cerulean eyes.

"Yep, every day I play some basketball with Joey Estevez."

"Have you considered joining the school team?"

"Mom won't let me due to grades."

There was a mumble coming from Sasha that Dylan overheard clearly but she ignored it.

"You have a favorite sport?"

"It's always a toss-up between basketball and baseball, I don't do that softball junk." Dylan said with a dismissive wave.

"So who do you think could take the pennant, Astros or Rangers?"

"It's definitely going to be the Sox." Dylan informed with her confident grin.

Jimmy gave his traditional slanted grin at his daughter's excitement at the talk of sports. It was all the sudden when the Vortex patriarch and the Neutron offspring got into a long, debatable conversation about the MLB. It was nice that Dylan could get along with at least one Vortex, Jimmy seemed to have more respect from Mr. Vortex than from Sasha. Cindy only put a hand on her forehead in exasperation as Dylan debated with her father about batting averages. Dylan bragged about her infatuation with the White Sox, confident that they would end up beating the Tigers for the ultimate clinch.

The Neutron/Vortex males and Dylan were in the living room, watching one of the baseball games. Dylan sat on the couch next to her grandfather, boasting about how this next hit would be a home run. Cindy occasionally glanced into the foyer, seeing Dylan placing a bet with her dear father. Even though she was a bit peeved at Dylan's obsession of sports and not anything school related, she actually found fondness in the way Dylan interacted with her grandfather. She had a cool, overzealous grin on her face, just as lopsided as her husband's when he discovered a new scientific theory.

She paid attention to the dish she was just drying and setting in the rack. Her mother was doing all the cleaning.

"So your daughter seems to have a strange infatuation with sports." Sasha commented. "How did that happen?"

"She just turned on the TV and got sort of, hooked, I guess." Cindy answered, remembering the early days when Dylan would flip on the TV and watch ESPN instead of cartoons. "I kind of blame Sheen Estevez's influence on her when she went over to their house to play with Joey."

"Hmm…" Sasha hummed, nonchalantly. She scrubbed the china thoroughly and handed it over to her daughter. "I have a question for you Cynthia…has Dylan shown any sort of…academic potential?"

"Academic potential?"

"Has she accomplished anything, Cynthia?" Sasha rephrased, instantly, looking at her daughter with one hand on her hip.

"She's passing her classes, Mom." Cindy answered without looking her in the eyes. "She works really hard."

"Any AP courses?"

"…No."

"Honors?"

"She's in only one." Cindy answered, honestly. "But she's doing really well."

There was a burst of laughter coming from the foyer, Cindy, using her motherly instincts, knew the musical laugh of her daughter. She rarely giggled, most of her laughs were guffaws.

"I don't know where you went wrong, Cynthia." Her mother chastised with an ashamed expression.

"Pardon?" Cindy asked, completely shocked at her accusation.

"It's obvious that Dylan is struggling and showing absolutely no competition or driven attitudes." Cindy heard her say.

"Yeah but she's-"

"I would expect more from a Neutron, especially more from a Vortex." Sasha accused with a wagging finger. She sighed and dropped her hand. "I do not understand, I raised you to be competitive and I expected you'd do the same for your children. Maybe I should've seen this coming when you married the boy genius who destroyed the town nearly every week."

"Are you calling my husband a failure?" Cindy accused back.

"The least I would expect is your daughter inheriting your _husband's _intellect." Sasha retorted. Cindy only gave a glare at her mother, completely taken aback for the bashful behavior towards the grandchild.

"Mother, I know you don't like Jimmy but you can't just…think that my daughter is completely worthless. I know she's not…"

"She hasn't accomplished anything, Cynthia. By the time you were her age, you were already a master at seven different martial arts and up at the top of your class." Mrs. Vortex reprimanded.

What they didn't know was that behind the white painted wall, Dylan hid. Her ear pricked at the call of her name and her mother's voice. She could hear the harsh tone of her grandma and the desperate voice of her mother.

"Worthless?" Dylan mouthed to herself in confusion and instant hurt which she tucked away inwardly, her disdained eyes fell upon the hardwood floor as she processed the disappointment and the bitterness. Dylan released a sigh and walked away.

Cindy could hear the scuffle of her daughter's feet. Even without the shoes, her stomps could be heard and Cindy could tell it was Dylan by her shadow.

"Oh no…"

To be continued.

**Please, click that button. **


	7. Different Eyes

Hidden Talents

Ch.7: Different Eyes

Cindy stood in front of the door of her daughter's room. Her emerald eyes gazed at the wooden door, a sign hung on the front 'No Entry'. Though that sign existed, it was completely ignored. The blonde mother released a sigh.

"C'mon, that all you got?!" Dylan's voice taunted, loudly. "Ha-ha!"

She finally knocked on the door.

"Dylan?"

"Yeah, mom?" came her daughter's voice. She still seemed engross to her video game.

"Can I…come in?"

There was no answer except for the obnoxious video game noises for a few moments.

"Yeah, sure."

The Neutron matriarch opened up the door and walked through it, shutting it behind her. She saw her daughter sitting on her chair, feet propped up on her desk that was a hand-me-down from her father. She kept pressing buttons aggressively on her controller. On her computer screen was her favorite warfare game, Battleground IV: Insurgents. She enjoyed the violence just as much as teenage males would…which kind of concerned her mother a bit.

Once she approached the desk, she saw the look of concentration on her daughter's face. Her sky blue eyes squinted at the screen, her nose was wrinkled and her tongue was sticking out of the corner of her mouth, her lips formed a smug grin as she fired her virtual assault rifles at a bunch of foreign-dressed military targets.

She shifted her fingers slightly and pressed a different button. The hand of the player threw something and there was a loud explosion on the other side, computerized human targets flew.

"Booyah!"

"I thought you beat that game."

Dylan pressed the pause button and spun her seat around to see her mother, taking her feet off of the desk.

"What's up?" Her daughter asked, obviously surprised to see her mother.

"I wanted to…see if you were….well, alright." Cindy said, nervously. She wondered how she could be nervous around her 16 year old daughter. Dylan arched a brow.

"Why wouldn't I be?" Dylan questioned in confusion. She looked her mother in the eye. Cindy remarked at how blue her daughter's eyes were. It was an interesting outcome. Cindy would always grin foolishly remembering an argument between her husband her during her pregnancy, debating on the possibility of her eye color. Though neither was exactly correct, both the parents found the shade beautiful for their daughter's personality. They held a special twinkle and they lit in several different emotions. "Mom?"

Cindy shook her head at the concerned voice of her daughter, her voice had a deeper and more mature octave compared to her mother's.

"Huh?"

"You spaced out." Dylan informed. "You alright?"

"I'm fine." Cindy told her.

"Then, no offense, why are you in here?" Dylan asked.

"I noticed…I noticed that you overheard your grandmother and I." Cindy reported, softly. "And I just wanted to make sure you're alright."

Dylan sighed and set aside the controller next to her keyboard.

"I'm fine." Dylan answered.

"I hope you know that we don't think you're a failure." Cindy announced.

"Really Mom, I'm okay." Dylan voiced, assertively. Her arms folded over her chest and looked at her mother.

"Okay…I just…wanted to check up on you." Cindy said, walking over to the door but stopped when she saw something on her desk. She walked over to the table and picked up a notebook. On the page, there were a series of sketches that took up over half of the page. "Did you…draw these?"

Dylan spun again in the chair, her eyes falling upon her parent.

"Yeah." Dylan said, sheepishly.

"These are…really good." Cindy commented. She showed Dylan the drawings, pointing to one of them with her thumb. "What's this?"

"Thor's hammer." Dylan informed, this time one of her hands rested on her desk.

Cindy looked at the various sketches. She began to flip through the notebook, noticing the several different drawings of swords and other ancient artifacts. All the sudden, there was an obnoxious ringtone coming from Dylan's pocket. She took it out and answered it, standing up and exiting the room, leaving her mother to investigate the hidden talent her daughter had.

"Yo, what's up Bryant?"

Cindy sifted through the notebook even further until a loose piece of folded paper slid out, casually floating down to the carpeted ground. Cindy noticed the drop and placed the book back on the table and knelt down, picking up the creased parchment.

She opened it up after she righted herself. In awe, she saw the careful detailed drawing of two people, hunched over and yelling in each other's face. She recognized the two humans as her and Jimmy. A different mother would feel disturbed that this was picture when their child would think of their parents but Cindy's frown faltered when she read the bottom of the page.

_Each Obstacle Makes Love Stronger._

It was written in Dylan's messy script but it was beautifully drawn. Cindy was about to place the artwork back into the notebook when she saw a passage written on one of her pages.

_A child would hate it when their parents argued. But I don't. I just sit there and enjoy the show. At dinner, it is always fun to watch the angry glint in the eyes of my parents. My father would spit out statistical facts while my mother would spit out insults that originate as far back as their elementary school years. You'd probably cringe at the venomous snarls, but these 'fights' make me grin. To my right, Isaac, the little brother, would always cackle at the contorted face of my mom and her famous 'big-head' jabs towards Dad. You'd think I'd be sick of it by now, the constant fighting, the wicked insults but each fight seems to make this bond stronger. My parents not only fight, but they love each other. I have to interrupt their moments as the traditional offspring would, but it is admirable how such a rivalry could turn into something much more, that's what's beautiful about love. We can never tell when it will come to us, it can haunt us to the grave but it can change lives and make new ones. Love is an interesting thing, you have to take it slow and be ready for each curve and sharp turn…just like a road and just like life. Even in love, you got to give It your all but you have to listen and time your move._

And passage wasn't finished there, Cindy suspected the writing to be a journal entry of some sort and was willing to finish the flowing material but her daughter had just entered the room with a foolhardy grin, only to frown slightly at her mom's odd behavior.

"Mom?" Dylan questioned. "You okay?"

"I'm fine, Dylan." Cindy told her, half of it was a lie but the other…was pride. Shaking her head, the mother quickly excused herself, leaving a questioning daughter to do her business.

* * *

Jimmy seemed to pick up his wife's suddenly astonishment.

"Everything okay, honey?" the genius inquired. Cindy nodded her head and had the biggest smile on her face.

"She sees the world differently, Jimmy." Cindy stated. Jimmy arched a brow at the ambiguous statement. The blonde adult picked up on his puzzled reaction and elaborated, showing him the amazing sketch. "I found this in her room."

Jimmy gently retrieved the parchment and unfolded it, Cindy had taken a seat next to him on their bed, gazing at the carefully drawn artwork. Jimmy's dark eyes examined the picture as if he was studying microbes.

"This is…amazing." Jimmy said, shocked.

"She views everything differently than we do." His wife concluded, realization dawning on her. "And it's not for the reasons we think."

"She drew this?" Her husband asked, his voice soft. There was a moment of silence. Jimmy kept his eyes on the drawing and Cindy was staring at the hardwood floor.

"My mom is wrong about her." She determined in a quiet voice. Jimmy looked up at his wife in interest.

"No offense, Cin, but she is rather…"

"Dylan overheard us talking. She heard my mother criticize her lack of talent." Cindy informed him, pang of guilt ripping at her heart.

"Dylan's something special, Cindy." Jimmy added after a couple of silent moments. "Even though she doesn't show it in science or martial arts."

"I know, I just wish sometimes that-"

"She's a teenager, Cindy. She'll be reclusive and ignorant."

"She hasn't been easy to coax, Jim. We've always had to work to get her to talk to us." Cindy told him. "At least, I did."

Suddenly, the conversation changed. Jimmy looked at his wife with concern eyes and briefly glanced back at the paper. With small motions, he folded the parchment and placed it on the foot of their bed. He then followed through by placing an arm around her shoulders, pulling her to him and having her head fit between his shoulder and neck.

"I know you don't have the best relationship with her." Jimmy interjected. "You two have completely opposite personalities, therefore you clash a lot. But you know she loves you and she'll talk to you when she needs to."

"Jimmy-"

"If Dylan had to talk to either of us, she would go to you most assuredly." Jimmy convinced. "We just need to wait."

"…I guess you're right." Cindy sighed. "But just this once."

Jimmy laughed and pressed a loving kiss to the side of her head.

"She'll become something great, Cindy. I know she will."

"Well…she is a Neutron."

"_And _a Vortex."

To be continued.

**Please, click that button. **


End file.
